Week of Love
by XMistressChaosx
Summary: Clyde has enlisted Token's help in wooing the biggest anti-social nerd ever. In one crazy week, he goes through 80s references, bombs, vegetable wraps, Professor Chaos, and the death of a certain one-balled boy, and more. Whoever said love was easy? Stolovan.
1. Sunday

**This was a long time coming! I promised my dear friend, _Cupcake Queen Liz_, a Stolovan (?) story way back and it took me months to figure out the idea, and everything that went with it. I promised I'd put up her fic on my birthday, so, here I am. :D This story is seven chapters long and I'll try to post one chapter each day, but with school and a fickle parent, you never know what might come up. **

**I hope you like the beginning.^^**

**Warnings: Slash, Crack-ness, occasional breaks in the Fourth Wall, and bad humor and grammar.**

**Pairings: Main!Clyde/Kevin. There are hints of Clyde/Token, Clyde/Tacos, Token/Red, Garrison/Mr. Slave, Style, and Craig/Tweek.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything recognizable. **

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**Week of Love**

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**Sunday**

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"So, let me get this straight. You've come up with several brilliant plans to ask someone out on a simple date. And said person may or may not have feelings for you, and this probably is a rather double-edged situation for you since he just broke up with his boyfriend, and now said person is quite available for you, but you aren't sure how to approach him? So, these plans are supposed to help you, and you've enlisted my help because every man needs a wingman?" Token summarized confusedly. "Right?"

Clyde who sat across from him at the circular dining room table, nodded. "Right."

Token sighed, glancing over at four crudely drawn out layouts for how each plan was going to work. All these plans were rather crazy, wait, Token took that back, actually, Plan A and B was relatively sane, but all the letter plans after that were insane. Chances were that none of them would work. Why? The answer was simple; both Clyde and his love-interest were thickheaded. "Why can't you just ask him if he wants to hang out or maybe grab some lunch? Do you really need to make everything so difficult?"

Clyde scoffed. "I'm not making anything difficult. Every one of these plans is simple." He rolled his eyes; leave it to Token to not understand the genius of these plans. A five-year-old blindfolded could do all of this. That's how easy they were.

"Are you kidding me?" Token slammed his hand on Plan C. "What about this one? Do you really need to involve a **_bomb_**! Are you out of your mind?"

"A fake bomb, Token. There's a difference," Clyde said coolly. "Honestly, Token. You worry over the oddest things." He used his fork to poke his enchilada around his plate as Token muttered about his moronic ideas or whatever. Ah, life was good. All he needed was Token to agree to be his wingman and then life would be perfect.

"You are crazy," Token finally said after he calmed down.

Clyde's fork clattered onto the plate, he debated on whether or not he wanted to eat the food prepared for him, I mean he really wanted a double-stuffed taco, but Token said he had to eat other food varieties. Wait, Token stopped talking. It was time to answer. "So, I've been told. We've been friends for as long as I can remember, I'm surprised it took you this long to figure it out, Tokeny."

"First of all, you sound like Red when you call me Tokeny. It's creepy, so don't do it. Secondly, I've known for a very long time about your mental condition. It's just taken me awhile to come in terms with it," Token half- joked. By now he had removed his hand from Clyde's plan and placed it on his right knee. His long fingers tapped agitatedly at his kneecap.

"Mmm, whatever you say. So, are you going to be my wingman?" Clyde asked.

"Why are you giving me the illusion of having a choice in this matter? I have to be your wingman whether I like it or not," Token grumbled.

"Honestly, its to up the word count on this particular fiction," Clyde said, shrugging.

"Huh?"

"Nevermind, are you ready to start?" Clyde asked, getting up from his seat and grabbing Plan A off the table.

"Sure, when do we start?"

"Tonight. We need to head over to the electronics' store. Do you think we can find an old stereo with a couple of CD's, its a little bit outdated, but I doubt I could find a boom box, who has those anymore?"

"Clyde, what are you talking about?" Token asked, exasperated.

"Seriously Token, did you not read the plan? I put it in there in plain English, and if you attended movie night last week we wouldn't have this problem!" Clyde said, his left eyebrow twitching.

"I can't read chicken scratch! And I told you, I couldn't do movie night because my parents were sick with the flu. I had to take care of them... honestly though, it was one night and you always pick movies from the 1980's. I mean Ghostbusters was good..."

"Token! We don't have time for your ramblings. Let's go," Clyde interrupted. Token glared, he did not like being cut off like that. However, arguing with Clyde would change little. The boy was fourteen and he was still prone to burst into tears. He should comply with Clyde, going along with whatever he said until this whole mess blew over.

As he followed Clyde's hurried footsteps from the living room, he knew this was going to be a long experience for both of them.


	2. Monday

**Same warnings and disclaimers apply. I hope you like this chapter. Lovesick Clyde is fun to write. Can I get one review, pretty please?**

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**Week of Love**

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**Monday**

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"Where did you find a boom box?" Token stared at Clyde in disbelief. The brunet was fiddling with the outdated machine, apparently trying to figure out how to insert the small mix tape he was clutching in his right hand. Token jumped suddenly at the little yelp Clyde gave when he finally managed to get the little bugger in. Clyde grinned brilliantly at Token, holding up the black boom box. He started to trek through the snow toward a grassy-colored two-story house. Token huffed, reluctantly following his friend. When they were a foot away from the front door they stopped any movement.

"You know Stan already did this with Wendy. Do you think we should," Token comically shrugged, "I don't know, plan to do something normal in order to get Stoley's attention!" he ranted. God, it was cold outside and it was getting darker by the second. Their parents were probably worried sick about them; to make it worse, to any outsider it must've looked like they were crazy, stalker, creepers. And Clyde wasn't even listening to him...

"Throw a couple of stones at the right window!" Clyde whispered, or rather his version of whispering, which was yelling. Token raised a black eyebrow. What was this? Cheesy Romance Cliché time? Clyde looked completely serious. He scooped up some snow-covered rocks from who knows where and dumped them in Token's gloved hand. He pointed to the right window on the second floor of the home, making throwing motions. Token eyed his best friend.

"I can see why Tweek and Craig never want to play charades with you," Token murmured. "Why am I the one throwing the stones? Shouldn't you be doing this?" Clyde tilted his head in confusion, resembling a pudgy puppy. It was more adorable than Token would've liked to admit.

"Aren't you my wingman though," came Clyde's subdued rebuttal.

"Yeah, a wingma—"

"And you said you would help me with whatever I needed to gain Kevin's attention. And you said you'd help me win the heart of the biggest anti-social nerd of all time! You said you'd be there whenever I needed you: and now I need you, but you hate me and you're breaking a promise. You don't value our relationship! Why can't we be like Style!" Clyde whimpered, salty tears beginning to form at the corners of his eyes. He even sniffled once or twice, beginning to look like a kicked puppy. Clyde started to shake and his brow furrowed, the whimpers were starting to become louder… oh God, he was sucked into it.

"I'll do it, Clyde. Just stop crying. You're worst than Waterworks Wanda in Algebra," Token said. He pooled all the rocks into one hand, reaching into his front pocket to take out a wad of tissues (as Clyde's best friend it was important to always have at least three tissues and some cash for tacos with you), handing it to his brunet friend. Clyde gratefully accepted them, dabbing his eyes.

"Thank you, Tokeny," Clyde threw an arm around him. Token glared lightly at his friend. He began the task of hurling rocks at the window. Each rock bounced harmlessly off the glass barely creating an audible tap. When there were no more rocks left, Token glanced at Clyde.

"Well, I guess that's all we can do. We tried our best. We should go home now, come on." Token started to walk away, expecting to hear the soft crunch of snow trailing behind him. He waited for a few seconds, but when there were no sounds except the light night breeze, he whirled around, only to see his friend holding a baseball sized dark rock. "THE FUCK, CLYDE! Please, don't tell me you're goin—" the sentence died in his throat.

Token watched with horrified eyes as Clyde chucked the rock at the window. Not to his surprise the glass shattered upon impact, and all the lights in the house immediately turned on. He could hear dogs barking, and see other houses around them turning on lights! He raced over to Clyde who had turned on the boom box, the mix tape starting to play. In the back of his mind he registered it as Kingdom Hearts' Dearly Beloved, but there were more pressing matters to think of. He and Clyde had to get out of there!

Thoroughly panicked, he grabbed Clyde's wrist trying to pull him along, but dammit, this was hard! Clyde was glued to his spot, reciting overrated poems and pickup lines: "Roses are red, violets are blue, Kevin Stoley I never follow the herd, so, you should become my nerd!

"Did I just die? I think I just saw heaven, which is you by the way!

"If you were booger I'd pick you first!"

If Token weren't so busy trying to move his enamored friend he would of slapped his forehead. Where did he get these pick up lines? Butters or Kenny perhaps.

"If beauty were time, you'd be an eternity! Babe, you're so sweet, you put Hershey's outta business. If I could rearrange the alphabet, I would put 'U' and 'I' together. You be the Dairy Queen and I'll be your Burger King: You treat me right, and I'll do it your way.

"My love for you is like diarrhea, I just can't hold it in," Clyde continued on and on. Seriously, where did he get these? These were horrible! His bestie should've of stuck to Romeo and Juliet or a poem by Shakespeare. These were… God, he didn't have a word for it.

"Kevin," Clyde persisted, calling out to his dearest loved one, "if sexy were a crime you'd be guilty as charged!" Token stopped for a minute and just about everything else too. He did not just go that far.

"Clyde Donovan, you better get off my property with your shitty music and horrible pickup lines before Mr. Slave and I come down there and beat the shit out of you!" the very familiar voice of Mr. Garrison yelled from the right window on the house they were currently standing in front of. Token and Clyde blanched when Mr. Slave appeared decked in leather with his face covered in a white facial. He waved merrily to them below before closing the curtains.

Clyde turned toward the Token, all color seemed to be drained from his face. "Plan B?" he said weakly looking ready to puke his guts.

"Plan B," Token agreed, mirroring his best friend.


	3. Tuesday

**Same warnings and disclaimers apply. Chapter unbeta'd. I hope you guys like this chapter. It's a personal favorite of mine. One review per chapter, please.**

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**Week of Love**

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**Tuesday**

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"Please, Bebe, I'm begging! I can give you two free pairs of designer shoes every week for two months if you and the other cheerleaders distract the office staff," Clyde bribed during English class. Bebe stopped writing; she stared at him with unabashed awe. He swore he saw sparkles in her bright blue eyes**.**

"Including half off on pumps for a year," Bebe challenged. She raised a manicured eyebrow. Clyde groaned at the girl. His father would be losing some serious money on this, but for love he'd go through anything.

"Six months."

"Deal," Bebe purred. She delicately removed herself from her assigned seat. She strutted up to the front of the classroom loudly talking to the English teacher. She emphasized the importance of her having an impromptu cheerleading practice outside the school for two classes for total school spirit. Luckily, the teacher was a total idiot and diehard for school spirit. He immediately wrote a pass for all the cheerleaders who were consequently all in the same English class. She waved the pass teasingly in front of the classroom, winking at Clyde as she went out the door. The cheerleaders looked amongst themselves before following Bebe's lead.

Clyde took the chance to signal Token in the middle of the room before packing up all his stuff hurriedly. He pulled out a small pack of notecards, practically bouncing in his seat. Ooh. He couldn't wait. He jittered, waiting for his phone to buzz in his jacket pocket. His phone buzzed three minutes later. 'U have 10 maybe 15 mins b4 staff back. Use wisely,' it read and Clyde shot up like a rocket.

"Mr. Donovan! What do you think you're doing!" Mr. Cockinass shouted, stopping in the middle of his lessons. The brunet paid no mind. He took fast strides toward the door, a stupidly happy grin on his face.

"Sorry, uhh, my mother needs to go to the gynecologist and she wanted me and Token to come along to make sure everything is working right and the doctor isn't just some pervert!" he spouted off the first excuse in his head, not even pausing to think about the choice of words he just use. Mr. Cockinass was struck speechless and that's all that mattered.

Clyde opened the door and raced down the hallway with Token on his heels. He thanked God that no teachers were wandering the hallways or if they were they didn't care enough to say anything. He skidded to his left suddenly, then, made a sharp right turn into the unusually empty office. He wasted no time in locating the main office where the intercom was held. He walked over to the Principle's squishy seat, sinking down into the leather. Clyde pulled the black intercom toward him and then looked up at Token.

"Did you lock the doors?" he asked.

"Yup."

"Did you send Pac-Man, the old gaming system, and the two packs of sour gummy worms?" Clyde questioned his eyebrow raising. Everything had to be perfect in order for this work. Plan A was a total failure but plan B was bound to work.

"Uh huh, Craig said he'd give it all to Stoley during Math Class," Token answered with a reassured tone. Clyde nodded, his eyebrow falling down into its correct place. He inhaled and then exhaled, righting his expression into one of utter determination.

He jabbed a red button and began speaking into the microphone. "Attention students and staff of South Park High School. I am Clyde Donovan, a current freshmen, and I have something to say to another student in this school by the name of Kevin Stoley. So, you're like the most amazing nerd I've ever met in my life and I think I fell for you when I dropped my lunch in the rain in 7th grade and though everybody laughed," Clyde took the moment to glare balefully at Token whom was whistling innocently. "you were the one to give me a tissue and share your awesome Asian food with me!

"Adding to the fact I found out that you like the same things as me and a whole bunch of other stuff. This is so awkward saying this over the intercom, but I thought you'd like it better this way. Would you go out with me, please! Without sounding to stalkerish you are the yin to my yang. The Princess Leia to my Hans Solo. The Princess Peach to my Mario. The Aradia to my Sollux. The Rose to my Kanaya. The Shadow or Tails to my Sonic. The pepper to my salt. The lightning to my thunder. The Naruto to my Sasuke. The Juliet to my Romeo.

"Heck, you are the Jekyll to my Hyde!" Clyde cried. He was getting all emotional. "Kevin, you're the tacos to my soul. So, I'm asking you so I don't look like a total idiot, would you please go out with me? Hopefully, by now you haven't decided to hide in the bathroom and never come out. I really hope when I see you you're going to take off that oversized sweater to let everyone see that sexy round-ass.

"To all the boys and girls out there: that ass is mine. Nobody can touch it. I called dibs. Find your own luscious-assed nerd. This has been Clyde Donovan with your daily announcements. By the way, the cafeteria is serving chicken nuggets today." Clyde finished proudly.

"Clyde—" Token's frantic voice clicked within his mind as did the furious knocking on the door. The only had so little time now.

"Oh, wait, Token wants to say he loves Red!" Clyde added in quickly before pushing the intercom off. He hopped up from his seat, smiling over at his fuming friend.

"What? Why are you mad, Token?" he questioned, honestly confused. Girls were flattered by loud proclamations. Weren't they… he read it in Seventeen, and Bebe read that particular magazine all the time, and she was the girliest girl in their grade after Minnie and Lola. Why he knew that particular fact Clyde didn't know, but he figured it was important enough to know. Jeopardy might want him on their show and BAM! The question would be asked. And he, Clyde McNab Donovan, would be ready.

Token simply pinched his nose and sighed. "Never mind, we need an excuse. I can't get detention or suspended. My family's coming over. Do you know what my cousins, uncles, and aunts are like?" Token groused, pinching his nose harder.

"My Nikki would never get in trouble. He goes to a private school with the top teachers in the country. Unlike Token dear, who has to endure a redneck-white trash school. It's such a tragedy," Token replicated a deep southern womanly tenor. Clyde just rolled his eyes at his friend's dramatics.

"Token, we don't have time for a Doctor Phil session. It's time to go outside and face the music," Clyde said as he flounced out of his chair to the door.

* * *

"How'd we end up at lunch so soon?" Clyde inquired. He dug through his Taco Bell lunchbox to pull out his wrapped lunch. He lifted the tinfoil wrapped food up to his nose, practically drooling over the scent.

"To answer your question before you nose-rape your lunch, this is a teenage girl's story. She's extremely lazy and instead of doing hard work to make this story a worthy present for Cupcake Queen she's being a total ass, using lines and gags that are totally overused and not funny. I mean she doesn't even add detail. All of it is so boring, it's nothing worthwhile," Craig said monotonously.

In a matter of seconds an ice-cream trunk dropped through the roof onto Craig Tucker's body, effectively killing and splattering his blood and guts everywhere. And just like that the one-balled boy was no longer.

"OH MY GOD, SHE KILLED CRAIG!" Stan yelled around his straw of his strawberry milk.

"THAT BITCH!" Kyle followed, rightfully indignant. The rest of the boys simply shrugged their shoulders, going on with their lives as if this was a normal occurrence. Actually, Kenny seemed to be preening at the moment. He smiled at anybody who walked by or took a glance at him. Clyde shuddered at the weird behavior. He went about unwrapping his food until he realized Craig was dead, like dead never-coming back until some sort of toxic waste was dumped onto him, dead.

"GUYS, Craig's dead!" Clyde announced, tearfully.

Token patted him on the back. A tissue already pulled out of his pocket. "Don't be sad. He'll live in our hearts forever."

"No, Token," Clyde whined. He swiped the tissue from his best friend, blowing his nose noisily, "I don't care about that. I wanted to know what Kevin thought of my presents and my speech! He was the only that shared the class with Kevin besides Wendy!"

"Ooh," Token said awkwardly.

"If that's what you're so teary about I can get Wendy for you," Stan added in. Clyde looked at him hopefully as Stan called his girlfriend over to their table. Wendy smiled prettily at them, chatting with Stan for a moment before giving her attention to Clyde.

"That was a really romantic speech, Clyde," Wendy swooned with pink dusting her pale cheeks. "I wish someone would have the balls to do that for me!" Wendy shot a potent death glare at Stan who remained oblivious.

"Thanks, Wendy, uhh, can you tell me what Kevin thought of it and whether he liked his gifts or not?"

"Didn't anybody tell you?" Wendy crossed her arms; a puzzled expression crossed her pretty face.

"Kevin wasn't in Math class. He won't be coming back until Wednesday. He and his family are in Virginia, visiting family. He's been gone since Sunday," Wendy answered.

Clyde groaned, slinking down to the wooden table.

"Sorry."

"It's okay. Thanks anyway," Clyde nodded at the brunette girl. Wendy gave him one last smile before walking back to her table.

"Cheer up, Clyde, you've still got your food," Token tried to appeal to his sense of appetite.

Clyde sat up with a small perk. He grabbed his previously forgotten food, taking a delicious bite only to spit back out after a second experimental chew. He glared at the food like it was the source of all evilness in the world. He slammed it down on the table, huffing.

"What's wrong now, Clyde?"

In response Clyde wrapped his arms around Token's neck, crying rivers on his oh-so-fancy-one-of-a-kind-expensive designer shirt. "It's a vegetable wrap~!" he bawled.


End file.
